It is the small incongruities that first make you wonder.
You compose the obituary,
willing to fall in line the names, dates and signposts of life past,was born/accepted Christ/attended/graduated from
married/bore/worked/retired/ lengthy illnesss/died peacfully/
is survived by/ and a host of other relatives and friends.
A fluid discourse,
A well-written play
Beginning, middle and end
Cleanly orchestrated
such that the mourners who inhabit the pews sparsely or in legion,
Might imagine they hear music as they read,
A pedestrian soundtrack to a life whose parts add up to an ordered whole.
But there is no justice in this sterile accounting
No homage to first loves and heartaches,
No nod to the nights you peeked round the living room corner
and saw her sitting in the 3 AM dark,
holding a head heavy with memories of which she never speaks.
The words on the bi-folded page render her in flat effect,
Lines of type will not cup the contradictions that danced behind her eyes
and hid themselves beneath the curl of her fleeting smile.
A funeral is not the place for complexity
We need the solace of simplicity
while we wear the awkward garments of grief.
And yet as the months pass,
It is the mystery in her life
that will come to you again and again
Unbidden but relentless
As you wrestle with the rough edges that gave her substance
And grow to love her spirit in ways and for reasons
Denied to you when she was flesh.

thanks to all of you.
As I'm sure you guessed, this piece was written with my own mother in mind. Only after she died did i begin to grasp the complexity and contradictions she possessed, not just as a mother, but as a woman and as somebody else's child. So many questions that will never be answered -- questions it never occurred to me to ask while she was living. We have this tendency is to cannonize our loved ones after they die, to erase from our memory their failings and frailties. But in doing so we render them two-dimensional, and rob them of their humanity after the fact. Our ancestors deserve better. If we honor them in all their fullness, and they will speak to us.

Excellent poem. I love the way you dissected the funeral process, and elaborated on how it is simplified. Then you took us deeper, past the glossed over obituary and pointed out the moments of solitude, depression, things that they omit, but nevertheless important aspects of that person's life.
I don't think I have read any of your work before, but you went deep into the abyss with this one. And although it captures a moment of grief I really enjoyed the read.

Sometimes we never really see a person completely, until after they are gone.

seriousblakman!!!!: My dear darling thespian brother! I am SO happy to find you on this forum! Welcome! I look foward reading a post from you very soon....come on, put that dramatic artistry to work.

Legend: As always, your analysis is keen and most welcome. You challenge a writer to push toward higher excellence, which is where we all should strive to be. Thank you.

alyce: I'm always honored by your comments. And yes, "physical plane" is right! When you see with spiritual eyes, you know the ancestors are with you!

$$rich$$: yeah, it's funny when we look back and realize that our parents were real people, ain't it? And that realization teaches us to love them in a new way. Thanks for sharing hon. Chicago!! One of my favorite cities!!